why are you looking at me like *i* should know

I have fallen in love with a boy who says he loves me too but I am too fat to be his girlfriend and he'll be with me when I'm more skinny. He doesn't know I always try my best and skip food for weeks . My best friend he's an arrogant sh*t boy. I don't know what I should do , my best friend is always right but I'm like dumb now..

Omgg what a dick. Girl why are you still talking to him wtffff, if someone said that to me I’d be like fuck you, your lose. Don’t ever let someone treat you that way hunny, your worth so much more. Plus if his saying things like that his only looking to be with someone for there appearance only, you need to block him from your life like straight away. Plz never talk to him again

I’ve always been hesitant to post about this because I’m worried people will take it as a personal offense and I just want to say in advance this isn’t “@ anyone” or a callout even

I just feel like emotional consent as a concept is rarely talked about and therefore it’s often breached unknowingly (hence why I don’t never get mad at anyone specific for breaching it), and also I think it’s important I make this post. I didn’t learn what it was till I was older, and most people don’t.

Essentially “emotional consent” is a mutual understanding and willing agreement between both parties when discussing directly emotional or potentially emotionally loaded questions.

I’m going to start with examples, and I know it might feel bad at first if you recognize you do some of them (it’s okay, we all do from time to time), but please keep reading because I promise I’ll get onto alternative dialogues and solution

Here are some examples of what a breach of emotional consent can look like- not all the ways of course, but the major ones off the top of my head:

Venting to someone without warning or established boundaries this can look like starting a conversation by venting, or detailing graphic information seemingly out of nowhere and without effective trigger warnings. This can put people in situations where they feel like they have to respond, even if they’re not emotionally equipped, if they’re busy, or if they don’t have the spoons. Of course, usually this wasn’t the intent of the venter, but still has the same effect. FYI- this includes celebrities, social media icons, and people you admire.

Talking graphically about sex, masturbation, or anything in that range without warning or established boundaries this can look like anything from sharing a funny sexual escapade with your friends, and dirty jokes, to sexual harassment and telling someone hows bad you want to fuck them despite not knowing how they feel about it. Sometimes in these scenarios, people can appear visibly comfortable in attempt to fit in and not seem prudish, or to avoid awkward confrontation. This can also be especially sensitive because this is a topic that can very easily and unexpectedly bring up traumas and insecurities along with the discomfort, and it can perpetuate rape culture.

Using pet-names and romantic implications, even platonically, without established consent this one was tough for me to swallow at first because I love pet names and I love using them platonically to show love. But even more, I want the people I love to feel comfortable and safe around me. Some people have deeper more negatively charged, or more intensely charged feelings around pet names than I do, and I wouldn’t want to subject them to that. Some people are also comfortable with certain pet names and not others. Also things like calling platonic meetups dates, cuddling, and platonically holding hands mean different things to different people, which is important to respect.

Showing people media or sending articles or news with heavy emotional content either without warning, or with the expectation of discussion part of this is about including trigger warnings, and making sure viewing triggering content is optional in spaces and interactions we have control over. Another part though, is the fact that we often expect people to have interactions and discussions with us about emotionally charged topics, including politics, crime, oppression, natural disasters, etc. without fully understanding how this can affect the other person.

Telling someone they’re the only person you feel comfortable telling something to, or be open with this one sucks because it usually (except in cases of abuse) comes out of genuine care and wanting to make the other person feel special. That being said, no matter how you phrase it, it can put a massive responsibility on the person that similar to my first example, can make them feel obligated to help even when they’re not in an appropriate place to.

Expecting people to share personal or intimate information a lot of times we ask emotionally loaded questions because we care about and are interested in the lives of our loved ones. That being said, if we’re not careful people can really feel obligated to share information they’re not prepared to, or don’t want to process at the moment. This can look like “How’s your health been?” “How are you handling [life event]?” and “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

so now the more pleasant part! What can it look like to prioritize emotional consent instead- these correspond in order of initial bullets

Starting vague and asking if it’s okay an example dialogue could be “I’m feeling crappy about [blank] are you up to listen to me talk about it?” I also love to add “or should I try [alternative coping method/talking to someone else right now?]” to the end of that if I have one so the other person knows if they say no I have something to turn to. Another example could be “Would it be alright for me to vent right now? FYI it may include mentions of [possible triggers] so if you’re not up for it right now I understand?” or simply “Are you comfortable with me talking about [blank?]”. Also talking to a celebrity or idol “You really helped me with [blank]. I don’t know if you’re comfortable with detail so I won’t elaborate, but I really appreciate it.” or “You really helped me with [blank.] [An explanation about what specifically helped or inspired you in more detail rather than graphic description of the event.]”

Again! You can just ask example dialogue can include “Can I mention something about my sex life?” “I have a joke but it’s dirty so I want to make sure thats okay with you” “Can I say something nsfw?” “Is everyone here okay with sex mentions?”

Asking still works! Example dialogue can be “Thanks [petname] (are you okay with me using that or would you rather I don’t)” “Are you okay being called [petname]?” “Are you comfortable with [intimate platonic act]?” “Do you want to [intimate platonic act]?” “I’d like to [intimate platonic act] if you’d be okay with that”

Ask/Warn ahead of time or clarify you don’t need response example dialogue “I want to process [news event] but I know it’s heavy so I wanted to ask first” “Jsyk this article contains [possible triggers] so don’t read it if you think it’d be harmful to you]” “Can I ask your opinion on [charged topic]. If you’d rather not, I understand” “[thought or link to article] FYI no need to respond. I just wanted to share.]”

Show you’re appreciation in other ways using phrases that show appreciation but don’t implicate responsibility like “Thanks for being here for me whenever you’re able to” “I really appreciate being able to talk about this with you” “It means a lot to me that I can feel so comfortable and open with you” “Being able to talk about this with you has been really helpful for me and I’m really glad I was ables to.”

Asking with an easy out or optional response examples include “Hey, I know you’re dealing with as lot and grieving right now so I absolutely don’t need a response, but I wanted to remind you if you need support in any way I’m available and have time right now.” “Do you want to talk about [emotionally charged life event] or would you rather talk about something else right now?” “I know it’s hard to talk about these things and I understand if you can’t, but I want to remind you that when you can and want to I’m available and won’t judge you.” “Would venting be helpful or draining right now?” “What’s the best way I can support you, or are you not sure right now?”

Sorry this became a long ass post but I thought it was important. I should also add that the exception of course is therapists and counselors, crisis hotlines, or other people trained and already prepared to cope with these things. but besides that- try and emo responsibly.

He doesn’t even bother
to take a seat at his own table, instead heading straight over to the Slytherin
side of the Great Hall.

Malfoy watches him as
he approaches with a smug smile. “Pot – “

Harry interrupts by leaning
down and smashing his mouth onto Malfoy’s, his hands reaching out to finally run
through that gorgeous hair. The entire Great Hall is watching and Harry’s face is
on fire, but none of that matters, because Draco Malfoy is kissing him back.

me, internally: I love the dynamic of Klance and I love writing the ship. It was my first ship in the Voltron fandom and my first Voltron Klance fic Bonding Time is still my most popular. But it’s a constant frustration, because the more Klance content I reblog, the more anti blogs and art and posts are recommended to me. Because so many Klance fans are antis, and so Klance is associated with antis, which is so sad because I don’t want to be associated with such a toxic side of a fandom and I know many other Klance shippers don’t either, or don’t see the harm in anti arguments because they support Klance, and they’re defending Klance, so it must be okay, right? I hate that so many antis who ship Klance are also Lance stans, because I love Lance but I do not appreciate the iterations of Klance which make Keith out to be little more than a prop to support and lavish love upon Lance when he needs it - forget Keith’s feelings and character development, he’s from Texas and loves knives and making terrible decisions LOL. I hate the “there can only be one” mentality among so many Klance fans, who will go out of their way to bash other ships in order to make Klance the only “safe” and “non-problematic” one. I hate that the argument “because it’s not Klance” has literally been used when one shipper was asked why she didn’t ship or like Hance, I hate that people label Pidge/Lance as problematic even though Pidge and Lance have great potential as a couple and their age difference is the same as Keith and Lance’s, and most of all I hate that antis who ship Klance (…which is most if not all of them) claim other ships that “interfere” with Klance like Sheith or Shance or Shklance are pedophilia and unhealthy, when they are neither. I hate that antis who ship Klance will go so far as to attack other shippers with slews of hate, death threats, give them labels using words they do not even understand, and worst of all invalidate the experiences and trauma of actual CSA victims in their quest to make Klance the one true pairing. I hate that Klance fans have attacked the creators and voice actors of the show in the same way, I hate that @bext-k has been treated so horribly here on tumblr and then been told she couldn’t defend herself because her bully was a minor (a minor, but not a toddler, someone who is perfectly capable of not being an asshole and whose age does not make it okay for them to say the things they said). I cannot stand the Klance meta posts that analyze the heck out of every interaction between the two of them, and at the same time ignore much more meaningful interactions between characters like Shiro and Keith and deny that there could be anything more than friendship between them. It isn’t that deep, I’m sorry, it just isn’t, and it’s embarrassing to see how far of a reach Klance fans make sometimes in order to make their ship as canon as possible. And look, to a degree, I get it. I love Klance. But I do not love the way so many Klance shippers have broken apart this fandom and created spaces so toxic that CSA victims’ voices cannot even be heard without being shut down, mocked, and insulted. I do not love the way I now I have to check every unknown blog’s description before reblogging a post from them to make sure they don’t say “shaladins get out” or “stinky anti” there. I do not love the way that adult antis claim they are protecting minors and then turn around and reblog nsfw fanart of Keith and Lance, two characters who they apparently see as minors, even going so far as to tag it with things like “yaoi” or “this is so sinful” or something equally insulting. I do not love the way antis gaslight and guilt-trip, I do not love the insidious mob mentality that leads to people feeling afraid of not thinking the way other antis do. I do not love the all too prevalent fujoshi culture found among Klance shippers - have you ever noticed that the overwhelming majority of Klance shippers are teenage to twenty-something girls? Whereas all of the queer guys I know of in this fandom are multishippers and/or ship Sheith or Shance. Why don’t we acknowledge that? Why don’t we acknowledge that queer guys, whose relationships we are writing/drawing/analyzing and fangirling about, have an opinion here, and that their opinion maybe, just MAYBE, matters more than ours? In Hypable’s Battleships poll, this was literally proven - way more guys voted for Sheith than voted for Klance. But Sheith is the toxic relationship. Uh-huh. Right. Okay. Even though they’re both adults and have shown each other nothing but love, trust, and respect. This is what infuriates me about so many Klance shippers. The willful blindness to even acknowledge that other sides, other ships, may have merit. And of course this isn’t all of them, I ship Klance and I know many others who do and who don’t share this mentality that makes me so sad and upset. But there are a significant amount of Klance shippers who do. Why can’t there just be a dialogue? Why can’t antis be people who may not like Shaladin ships but understand that this is a fictional show, people are entitled to their opinions, blacklisting tags/blocking users/not looking at content you don’t like is a valid option, and words like pedophilia and “go kill yourself” should not be thrown around as lightly and frequently as they are? I wish we could. I really wish we could. And I also wish I could ship Klance as much as I want to without constantly being reminded of all the hate spread by people who call it their OTP.

Hello! How would you write a dialogue in which a character is freaking out about something? I generally have them word vomit but I don't really like that style. If its too much could you show me an example as well?

Hi!

You could definitely word vomit – especially if your character is hysterical – but that’s not the only way to do it by any means. I know a few other ways.

1. Calmly.This is strange, considering your character is freaking out, but the freak-out is internal – they’re shutting themselves off due to shock. In this case, they would be quiet, sane, and even if what they’re saying is illogical, it would probably sound reasonable.

“I was right there when she shot him. He dropped like a sack of flour. I figured he was gone as soon as the bullet hit his chest. So now I’ve decided I’m gonna go after her. Right now. And I’m gonna kill her.”“What? You can’t do that!”“Sure I can. She killed him, so I kill her. It’s called justice.”“But- With just your bare hands?”“The way I feel right now, my bare hands are more than enough.”

Notice how the character who just watched their friend die in front of them isn’t yelling, isn’t stuttering, isn’t getting angry or crying – they’re perfectly calm, almost to the point of complete emotional shutdown.

2. Angrily.Some people get angry when they lose control and freak out – it scares them, and the fear manifests itself as anger. This type particularly happens when they’re upset about something and other characters aren’t taking it seriously or are shrugging off their concerns.

“No! It’s happening tonight! We don’t have time to think, or weigh things, we need to fucking leave! Now!”“We can’t. You know that, and you’d remember that, if you were thinking straight-”“I am thinking straight! It’s you who’s fucked in the head. I don’t give a damn what you think we can and can’t do, we need to clear out of here, right this second.”

As you can see, this character is freaking out – their concerns may or may not have a firm foundation, but obviously they are concerned, and that concern is manifesting itself as fury.

3. By stuttering.For some people, it’s hard to talk when they panic, because their minds race forward ahead of their mouths and they get tongue-tied. I typically see/use this with more anxious characters, or with characters who aren’t typically good at speaking anyways (in other words, who are uncomfortable talking).

There are a couple of different ways to stutter:a. Repeat the beginning of each word.

“I tr-tried to s-save him, but he wuh-wouldn’t l-let me … he knew it was g-going to happen. It’s my f-fault!”

(However, keep in mind that this kind of stuttering is more as if your character is crying and trying to talk through sobs and hiccups. Please use it sparingly – it can get old fast.)

“So here we also have a photo of-” Jimmy paused, taking a look at the screen, just like Bill, and the entire audience that went crazy and started cheering and clapping the moment they saw you.

Bill himself chuckled as he took in the sight of you looking stunning as ever in your red dress, standing on your tiptoes even if you were wearing high heels to kiss his cheek; one hand on his chest and the other on your shoulder as he had an arm wrapped around your waist and the other cupping your cheek.

He didn’t even know how they had managed to snap that photo because it wasn’t exactly in front of the cameras. You had mostly been standing on the side with his brothers, and great friends of yours, and he had rushed to you to get that good luck kiss. He didn’t expect there to be evidence of that so he was glad he’d kept himself from kissing you properly on the lips.

“(Y/n) and you.” he completed with a smile, glancing for a moment at the enthusiastic audience “You two-” he turned back to the actor “You two are great friends right? I’m- I’m just asking because that could, you know, be misinterpreted by some.” he motioned to the photo, giving a look at the audience and everybody laughed at that.

You do threaten me though. Your existence threatens my world because you exist in a grey area. You dye your hair unnatural colours and stretch out your earlobes to show that you do not conform, but all I feel when I see pictures of you is fear. Because you pretend to be tiny and cute but who you truly are...well, it doesn't exist, so you are not supposed to be who you are, and I am terrified by that. Do you think you are so important that people must pluralize your pronoun?

Okay, I hear you. So I don’t think you have any reason to be afraid of me– you can’t really control how you feel, but you can control how you think, so I’m going to try to reason with you point by point and let you know why I don’t think you should be afraid of me. All that I ask is that you read this with an open mind.

- I don’t dye my hair or stretch my ears as some sort of exercise of non-conformity– I just like the way it looks. It isn’t even really an act of non-conformity because the society, that I live in permits that type of self-expression– it’s allowed. I’m not breaking the law or anything.

- I really don’t know what to make of you suggesting that who I am doesn’t exist, or that I am something that I am not supposed to be. I don’t particularly believe in any sort of creator so I don’t know who exactly would be the authority on what I’m “supposed to be,” but I really don’t think that you’re the authority on who I should or shouldn’t be, because we’ve never met. Also, you claim that what I am doesn’t exist, but I really think you should tell that to all of the terrifying, like-minded people in my inbox that are asking me if it’s okay to express themselves the way that they want to. They’re afraid to act on their feelings, or in other words: they’re afraid to be themselves. I personally don’t think that there’s anything scary about them.

- Self-importance is kind of tough for any individual to avoid, because we can only really experience life in our own shoes. We have to prioritize ourselves to some extent or else we won’t take care of ourselves– which is exactly what I’m trying to do. So yeah, I guess I do think I’m kind of important… at least important enough to try and give myself as good of a life as I can, but I don’t really think that’s abnormal. I like to be referred to a specific way, because that’s what’s most comfortable for me. You wouldn’t want someone to call you the wrong name; I don’t want someone to refer to me using the wrong pronouns (Quick sidenote: when referring to a shadowy figure whose identity is concealed by a cloak and a mask you would describe their actions by saying something like “they reached for the doorknob,” because their gender is indeterminate; therefore, singular they/them pronouns exist).

Look, the main thing to focus on is that I really don’t mean you any harm– I truly don’t! I hope that you can go on to live a happy life. I just couldn’t leave this, because historically, nothing good ever comes from this kind of fear.

Sometimes the most important things you will ever say to somebody are said with silence. Love is a wordless language… it is in the touch of a hand or a look in the eye and sometimes, something entirely different… something that cannot be described. It is almost like an energy flow… a presence like static electricity that occupies the narrow spaces between you.
It is an unspoken and unexplainable connection, and just as the cells and atoms in your body bond in such a way that you can feel when your hand hurts – so too can two people bond so that one may feel when the other’s heart hurts. And this is why I so rarely say ‘I love you’… because so often those words are nothing more than meaningless static… white noise used to fill conversation gaps or replace offhanded salutations on the way out the door. Love is not an audible sound you should hear from me… it is something you should feel emanating from me like an electrical charge or something you should see in my eyes when I look at you with a plethora of emotions contained in a single glance… It is something you will know without needing to be told because whenever I am with you the entire world dissolves until you and I are the only two things that exist.
This is what I am saying to you in those quiet little moments when you catch me looking at you with a hint of a smile and eyes that whisper something you can never quite hear, but instinctively know is a message for you, and you only…
This is what my silence is telling you.

Draco couldn’t help but sneer. Thank Merlin Chang was already going out with Diggory! But Potter seemed to fancy her nonetheless. Draco had caught him staring at the Ravenclaw in the Great Hall several times. It made him want to dump his porridge on Potter’s head.

When he saw Potter the next day, he noticed how tense his shoulders looked, how he was walking with his head bowed. Draco would have liked nothing more than to go over there and end Potter’s misery. There were only a few minor problems. Draco had a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t just walk over there and ask him to the Yule Ball. Besides, Potter didn’t even like him.

The more Draco thought about the impossibility of ever being with the stupid Gryffindor, the angrier he got. As he watched Potter cross the courtyard, he acted on impulse. He scooped up a handful of snow and threw it with as much force as he could. It hit Potter right in the back of his head.

“Ow!” He whirled around and narrowed his eyes when he saw Draco sneering at him.

“Potter!” Draco didn’t even have to force his voice to sound gleeful, it was an automatism. “Could you be any more pathetic?” He approached Potter with a smart pace, flashing his ‘Potter stinks’ badge before he came to a halt in front of him. “How does it feel, Potter, to realise you’re not everybody’s darling?” He cackled scornfully, jutting his chin forward. “The Boy Who Lived… can’t even find a date for the Yule Ball.”

Potter glowered at him and Draco felt almost embarrassed about how much he was enjoying it.

“Oh, because everybody is begging you to go with them?” Potter said in a mocking tone. Draco straightened himself, attempting to look as superior as possible.

“Unlike you, I get to pick and choose amongst my devoted admirers.”

Draco scowled when Potter snorted.

“Right. The one devoted admirer being Pansy Parkinson. And you call me pathetic.”

Draco struggled to keep his composure. But he wouldn’t let Potter win.

“Should I build you a snowwoman, so you won’t end up alone after all? At least she’d have as much charisma as you.”

“Don’t bother, Malfoy,” Potter said gruffly. “Worry about yourself. I bet you can’t find someone other than Pansy who’d want to go with you.”

Draco felt his cheeks burn up. He didn’t want to go with Pansy but had already made his peace with it, seeing as the person he really wanted to go with wasn’t an option.

“I already told you, I have lots of choices,” Draco fumed. It was an outright lie and he suspected Potter knew it. The Gryffindor crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Draco a speculative glance.

“Alright, let’s make a bet then.”

Draco pressed his lips together to keep himself from gaping. He squared his shoulders and forced himself to smirk.

“Sure. But if- I mean when I turn up with my date, who won’t be Pansy, you’ll kneel in front of me and kiss my hand.” Draco chuckled inwardly.

“Fine! Since you seem to be so sure of yourself, I’ll make it easy for you. If I win, you’ll kiss your date in front of everyone! Like you mean it.”

Draco bit his lip. Potter wasn’t playing fair. He knew Pansy had a thing for Draco and she would kill him if he went to the ball with somebody else and kissed them right in front of her. But he couldn’t back down now.

“You’ve got yourself a bet, Potter,” he growled and stalked off to the Slytherin common room. What had he gotten himself into? This was bound to end badly. He knew it from the second he had agreed to this stupid bet and was proven right again when he talked to Pansy.

“What do you mean, you can’t go to the ball with me?” she screeched. Draco sighed.

“I made a bet with Potter,” he said, plopping down in an armchair.

“And that bet excludes me as your date?” She was probably going to start throwing things any second now.

“It does,” Draco replied. “Just ask Blaise or something.” It was obviously the wrong thing to say. Pansy’s face was red and blotchy, her nostrils were flared and her eyes look murderous.

“I will kill Potter for this,” she yelled and stormed off into her dorm. Draco let his head fall back and tried not to think about how Pansy would react if he actually had to kiss someone in front of her. Like you mean it. Potter’s words echoed in his head. That would be a tough sell. The only person he could imagine kissing in earnest was the one he’d had to beat in this stupid bet.

Draco looked around the Great Hall and wrinkled his nose. Finding a date to the Yule Ball had turned out harder than he had anticipated. Every single person he had asked was already taken, or at least they said they were, and time was running out fast. The stupid ball was tomorrow. His only consolation was that Potter didn’t seem to have had much luck either.

He didn’t know why he did it, what idiocy drove him to provoke Potter further, but when Potions class was over, he strode over to the Gryffindor and casually leaned his hip against his desk.

“Time’s almost up, Potter. We can do a test run if you like, to familiarise your knees to being bent.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger and Weasley blinking at him.

Draco could only watch Potter and his friends, who were still gaping at Draco, leave the classroom while he stood there, dumbfounded and rooted to the spot. His heart was about to jump out his chest and his legs felt like he had been hit with the Jelly-Legs-Jinx.

He was still slightly swaying when he found Blaise in the library.

“Got a date yet?” he asked, putting down his quill. Draco groaned.

“No. And Potter is driving me insane!”

“Honestly, you should just ask him to be your date and be done with it,” Blaise suggested.

“You’re very helpful,” Draco barked.

“Seriously, Draco, I swear to Salazar, if you don’t do anything about it and I have to endure you talking about him every waking minute until we finish school, I will throw myself into the Great Lake.”

“You know very well I can’t do anything about it,” Draco huffed. “And I do not talk about him that much.”

This is sorta lame and cheesy, but it’s basically just a fluffy Imagine about Tom being a cute boyfriend and taking care of his drunk girlfriend💗
Author’s Note: This is a oneshot inspired by sorta me? My mom had a party and made a ton of mixed drinks, and because I’m a dumb baby that never drinks, I forgot that vodka literally punches you in a face when you drink too much of it? Anyways, I got drunk and ended up crying to one of my cousins for about 40 minutes about all the reasons why I love Tom? Apparently, I’m even more cheesy and sentimental drunk than I am sober, who knew lol?

Vodka
She giggled to herself, ankles knocking into each other as she braced herself on the door of her apartment. She was absolutely, completely, and undeniably smashed. Truly, she couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten this way, but then again, she could barely recall her uber ride home.
Her hands kept shaking and she couldn’t find the correct key to fit itself into the doorknob. At this rate, she’d be out all night.
Tom paused the film he was watching and glanced back towards the front door. He was pretty sure that he could hear someone out there, but it was probably just their neighbor’s being noisy. Allowing the film to regain his full attention, he did his best to ignore the strange sounds outside, until he heard something that replicated her giggle.
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She was supposed to be at a sleepover with her best friends, not coming home at one in the morning? Tom got up and made his way over to the window by the door. Peeking out, he saw that the giggle outside indeed belonged to her, and she appeared to be struggling hugely with the task of opening the door.
Quickly crossing to help her inside, Tom yanked open the door and barely had time to catch her as she crashed in on top of him.
“Tom!” She yelped excitedly, making no effort to move off of him, instead cuddling further into him, while he laid sprawled across the floor with her lying on his chest. “Do you wanna hear a joke? It’s so dirty and I know how you love dirty things!” She explained innocently, her eyelashes tickling his neck.
Tom chuckled, “Darling, come on up here. We’ve gotta close the door.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you!” She leaned over him, “What did Cinderella do when she got to the ball?”
“You’re absolutely wrecked.” Tom laughed, taking in her mussed up appearance. She still looked good, how could she not? Her skirt was just shorter, her breasts were more exposed than she’d be comfortable with sober, and her eyemakeup was slightly smudged. Her hair tumbled down her back in messy waves and she teetered on her high heels.
If she had come home sober, Tom would’ve dragged her off to bed with him, but alas, she was drunk and needed to be taken care of.
“She gagged!” His girlfriend giggled, finishing up the butt of her joke. “Do you get it?”
Tom burst out laughing and cradled the back of her head as he rolled her onto her side so that he could get up to lock the door. “Yes, baby, I do. Where’d you hear that one?”
She didn’t even seem to have registered what he asked her because, in response, she said, “I don’t think I’d be Cinderella if I was a disney princess. She gags, but not me. I don’t gag, unless you make me.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re going to be so embarrassed in the morning.” Tom said, slipping his hands beneath her arms to pick her up. Helping her down the hallway to their bedroom, he asked, “Darling, how come you’re not with your friends right now?”
She blinked her eyes slowly and licked her lips. “We were all talking, and drinking. So, so, so much drinking. Did you know that vodka is strong? Like, it’s so strong, because, I’m not sure if you can tell, but,” She leaned closer to his chest and pressed herself up onto her tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “I’m kinda drunk right now.”
Turning his head towards her, he decided to play along, “Are you serious? I’d had no clue.”
“Well, yes! Anywho,” She dragged out the last letter of anywho before she tripped over herself again.
Tom caught her and slipped a firmer hand around her waist. “Anywho?” He pressed.
“We were all talking about our boyfriends, and how much we love them, because, I love you so much. And then, we started talking about the stuff we do with our boyfriends.” She paused in the hallway to poke Tom’s chest, “That’s my favorite shirt on you.”
“Darling, I’m not wearing a shirt?” Tom said, cocking his head to the side.
“I know,” She smiled, “That’s why it’s my favorite.” She gestured to Tom’s exposed midriff, “This is all great. Like, you look so good. The best.”
Tom dissolved into laughter and shook his head, “My silly, drunk girl. What are we going to do with you?”
“Well, you see, what I’d like you to do with me is make-out. That’s really why I came home. We started talking about some things,” She cupped her hand around Tom’s ear and whispered, “Sexy time things. And we all agreed that I should come home to you so that we could do the sexy time things. Because, I wanna do them, with you.”
Finally crossing the threshold of their bedroom, Tom placed her gently onto the bed and tried to ignore her last statement. Yes, she was his girlfriend. Yes, she’d just told him that she wanted him, and yes, he obviously wanted her too. But, she was drunk, much too drunk to consent to sex with him.
Tonight, Tom would be a good boyfriend and take care of her, but, in the morning, Tom would be a good boyfriend and he’d give her at least 2 orgasms with 2 advil pills to chase away her headache before breakfast.
“Sweet girl, we can’t right now. You’ve been drinking too much, you’re absolutely wasted.” Tom tried to reason with her.
“No, no I’m not. If I was drunk, could I do this?” She took a deep breath, “‘May I feel said he/ (I’ll squeal said she/ just once said he) It’s fun said she/ (May I touch said he/ How much said she/ A lot said he) Why not said she.”
Tom cut her off, “Sweetheart, nothing you say matters right now, you’re too drunk. Now just let me help you out of that dress.” Shaking his head, Tom laughed as he walked over to her with an oversized sweatshirt of his in his hand. Only she would be able to quote E.E. Cummings completely inebriated.
Kneeling in front of her, Tom lifted one of her feet onto his lap to unbuckled her high heeled shoe. Undoing the clasp and carefully removing the heel, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her foot.
“You know, I like it a lot better when you’re on your knees for a different reason.” She pouted, sitting up to watch him.
Tom chuckled again as he began to remove her other shoe, “Trust me darling, so do I. Roll over-” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence when she interjected.
“Are you gonna spank me?” She asked, rolling over. Her tiny dress had ridden up even more and Tom had to bite down on his lower lip and clasp his hands together to prevent himself from doing just that.
“You’re making this really difficult.” Tom muttered.
“Then do something about it. I thought bad girls got spankings?” She teased him, eyeing the hardness growing within his pajama bottoms.
“Stop it, I’m trying to take care of you and you’re making it really hard.” Tom groaned.
“I can tell,” She giggled.
“For fucks sake,” Tom rolled his eyes, “I’m going to help you out of the dress, and that’s all the touching I’m going to do tonight. Then, I’m going to take off your makeup, and you’re going to go to sleep.”
“Tom,” She whined, wriggling around on the bed, “I don’t wanna. I want you to do me.”
Tom laughed, “You’re going to die in the morning, oh my gosh. You’re such a child.”
“Ugh!” She whined and flattened out onto the mattress.
Sitting down behind her on the bed, Tom rolled her over and unzipped the back of her dress. He did his best to not look, but the zipper kept getting caught in her hair, and he couldn’t ignore the soft skin of her back. He saw that she’d chosen to wear the pretty, light pink, lace bra that she’d been wearing the first time they’d had sex. Groaning over the memories, he helped her rid her body of the confining fabric of her dress and had slid his sweatshirt over her body.
She turned to lay on her back, “Will you at least kiss me?”
“Yes,” Tom placed a soft kiss on her mouth, “Do you wanna get up to go to the bathroom to take off your makeup, or do you want me to do it for you here?”
“Hmmm, here.” She sat up and stuck her hands inside of the sweatshirt, only to toss her bra off seconds later.
Tom’s eye lingered on her chest as he got up to retrieve her makeup wipes.
“I love youuuuu.” She said, hugging herself to his chest after Tom had successfully cleansed her face of all traces of makeup. “You’re my favorite, even though you refuse to fuck me.”
Tom tucked the duvet under her chin and crawled in behind her. He kissed her temple and curled an arm around her, “I love you too darling.”
He prayed to the high heavens above that she wouldn’t feel his excitement poking her in the back while she drifted off and into dreamland.

Jaime:
The one where it's like she's staring into your soul and finding you lacking and all you want to do is prove you're good enough and honorable enough for her?

Tormund:
I was going to say the thing about how she looked like she was going to kick your ass and eat your liver for lunch, but that sounds like it'd make her like me more.

Jaime:
Yeah, I know that look too.

Tormund:
Tell me about all of her looks!

Jaime:
*whips out a presentation about Brienne of Tarth, her looks, and why she's the best*

Sandor:
*raises eyebrows*

Tormund:
That's a lot.

Jaime:
*shrugs* We were forced to go on a road trip together. I lost my hand, called her wench, and saved her from a bear. She kept me safe and made sure I got home okay. I gave her my sword and told her to keep it (just like my heart).

Tormund:
You lucky bastard. How long have you known her?

Jaime:
Long enough to know I should have followed her the first time I let her go.

Tormund:
My sympathies. I know what that's like. If it makes you feel any better, I still haven't sparred with her.

Q1: what was your impression of each other?J-Hope: It was me who went to pick Jimin up when he first came to Seoul from Busan.Jimin: my first impression of hobi-hyung was really good. He is like the next-door brother who will listen to my problems and worries.

Q2: about your strengths and weaknesses.J-Hope: Jimin looks like he knows everything and very well-mannered but then when he is upset about something, he will really down and kinda depressed.Jimin: Hobi-hyung…he’s got a lot of good points, first off…I really like his bright personality he always lift and keep our group’s spirits up. and hobi-hyung’s weakness? he gets tired easily. *laughs*J-Hope: oh…this is something that I can agree with, I get tired easily and when I am tired, I don’t talk much.

Q3: there are this saying among ARMYs that Jimin takes good care of J-Hope and thus earning him the nickname “Jimin-mom”.J-Hope: really? maybe it’s because we share the same room and we talk to each other a lot.Jimin: maybe it’s because we know each other well?

Q4: looks like J-Hope really love to pat Jimin’s head.J-Hope: ME? doing this to Jimin?Jimin: I guess Hobi-hyung likes to see me get mad *laughs*J-Hope: yes right, I like to see Jimin gets angry that’s why I like to play with him *laughs*

Q5: since the both of you share the same room, how do you divide the house chores like who cleans the room or vacuum the floor.J-Hope: I did! because I like to keep our room clean.Jimin: I tried to help too but…I don’t really know what I should do *laughs* a6:nd Hobi-hyung nags a lot when I didn’t keep the room clean like he always asks me “Jimin-ah, did you throw all the rubbish away?”

Q6: how much will you rate each other for being roommates.J-Hope: I will Jimin a 95! 5 points deducted for not organizing his stuffs well *laughs*Jimin: of course I will give Hobi-hyun a perfect 100! Hyung is the best roommate one can ever have.

Q7: what will you name your room?J-Hope: Hope Room!Jimin: I like this name too *laughs*

Q8: last but not least, “J-Hope / Jimin to me is…”?J-Hope: Jimin my cute little puppy
( ˘ ³˘)♥
Jimin: Hobi-hyung is a very reliable hyung, you can depend on him like you don’t have to worry about other things.J-Hope: our Jiminnie iis so cute I just wanna squish his face ahhhhh!

This was a Request for an Anon. They wanted a Story where Bruce Cheated and the Bat Boys react. If you have request go ahead and make one! Also Let me know if you want a part two. (UPDATE: Lots of people have asked for a Part 2 so i’ll start working on it soon ^_^) part two: here

You
weren’t much of a wine drinker, not much of a drinker period in all actuality.
When you did drink you preferred the sweetness of a strawberry margarita that
masked the taste of alcohol. However, right now, as the slightly bitter liquid
pooled to the back of your throat, you couldn’t imagine a better tasting drink.

Sitting
on the large black marble kitchen counter, you swung your legs with childlike
glee as the world around you suddenly started to feel a little hazy. Patting at
your cheek with a sweater covered hand to wipe away some tear stains you filled
up your glass of Zinfandel with the other.

The
bottle clinks hollowly against the counter just as Alfred rounds the corner
into the kitchen. He looks at your form sitting on the counter with wide
worried eyes but you can’t be bothered to give him more than a half hearted
crooked smile as you knock back half of your glass.

“Are
you alright ma’am?” He asks moving slowly toward you. He can clearly see the
intoxicated state that you’re in and he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Peachy,”
you say with an airy sigh.

“It
doesn’t seem so,” he says picking up the large empty bottle of wine. “It’s not
even past noon ma’am.”

“I
don’t know if I care that much Alfred,” you say with a chuckle. “This is
usually the only time I get to be alone.”

He
looks at you worriedly, “Maybe right now you shouldn’t be alone.”

You
look at him, nose scrunching up in anger and a frown pulling at your lips. “I
think I should, you aren’t exactly innocent either, are you?”

Alfred
doesn’t waver when meeting your gaze, save for a brief flash of guilt that runs
through his eyes. “Why don’t I fix you some coffee and breakfast to help sober
you up.”

“When
were you going to tell me?”

“Toast
is probably the best option.”

“Where
you ever going to tell me?”

“I
know you like eggs, so I’ll scramble some for you.”

“How
many times did you watch him fuck her?” You say as you grab at his arm.

He
stops his rambling at looks at you with a slight tear in his eye, “I’m sorry
Mrs. Wayne.”

You
look at the older man and see the pain in his eyes and think about the shame he
must feel, he is the one who raised Bruce afterall.

“Were
you sorry enough to ask him to stop?”

“He
pushed me away.”

“Of
course he did,” you say snidely letting go of the man and pushing yourself off
of the counter. Your sock covered feet hit the floor with slight pat and you
walk over to the sink to put your glass down. “When breakfast is done, I’ll be
in the bedroom.”

“…Of
course ma’am.”

***

Wallowing
around in your bed and wiping away ever falling tears all day wasn’t something
that you thought you’d be doing when you married Bruce Wayne. However, at the
moment you couldn’t think of what else to do. You needed to get your emotions
out and rest at the same time. Damian would be home from school soon and the
rest of the boys would be home for dinner.

The
familiar roar of an engine caught your attention and you felt your body tense.
Anticipation and anxiety wracked your form as you waited for the familiar
footsteps of your husband to enter the room.

What
would you say to him? Could you even bring it up? What if what you saw only
happened in a dream? He would never actually hurt you this way would he? He had
promised to love and cherish only you after all. How could Batman of all people
break his promise?

In
your thoughts, you’d barely heard the door to your bedroom open. He doesn’t say
anything when he walks through the door. You hear the rustle of clothing and
assume that he is removing his suit jacket. You assumptions were proved correct
when he comes to sit on the side of your shared bed and pulls the blanket from
over your head. He reveales himself to be in his white shirt and black suit
pants.

His
blue eyes scan over your form worriedly as he rubs a large thumb on your
forehead. You have to bite your tongue to prevent sharp words from spewing out
of you and rejecting his sweetness.

“Are
you still not feeling well?” He asked voice soft and warm.

You
shake your head.

He
sighs with a sad smile and runs the pad of his thumb over you cheekbone, “I’ll
have Alfred make you some soup.”

You
don’t respond and stare at him relatively blankly and while this bothers him he
shrugs it off to whatever sickness it was that was bothering you.

He
stands from the bed and moves over to the closet to change into something more
comfortable. You take the opportunity to sit up and push your body up against
the headboard and you watch him. As he pulls the shirt off his body you can see
every scar and bruise that he’d accrued recently, even the ones on his neck
that hadn’t placed there forcefully.

When
he slips the grey sweatshirt on over his head your trace is broken.

“Can
I say something?”

He
jumps slightly at the sound of your voice and turns to look at you with curious
blue orbs.

“I
always thought it would be Talia y’know? Especially on account of how Damian
got here, but I thought it would be her.”

“What?”
He asks with furrowed dark eyebrows.

“I
always thought that the thing with Selina was harmless flirting, even if she
did kiss you once or twice, I never really got mad.” You can feel your throat
slick and tighten with nerves but your belly is full of rage.

You
can see it on his face when it registers what you were talking about and the
blanching of his face causes you to get angrier for some reason. You stand up
quickly from your position on the bed and instinctively he holds a hand out in
attempt to calm you.

“Why
would you do that to me? What have I not given you that you couldn’t think ‘I
shouldn’t do this, I have a wife waiting at home’?”

“We
were caught up in the moment, it wasn’t supposed to happen.” He tries to
explain.

“Multiple
times, you fucked her multiple times! On different days, on different weeks!”

He
looks at you pathetically and you suddenly find that your positions have been
reversed and he is the one sitting on the bed while you are the one standing.

“You
know I thought this would happen when we were dating, and I told myself that it
would be much better if it happened then because I could just leave. But now I
can’t, I’m stuck here with you, in this giant stupid house.” You can feel your
tears start to well up again but you quickly wipe at your eyes in an attempt to
wipe them away. “Were you going to stop sleeping with her? Or were you just
waiting to get caught?”

He
doesn’t respond and he hangs his head down in shame.

“Look
at me!,” you snap agitated and causing him to meet your gaze. “You were bold
enough to go and do it no you have to take the consequences the same way you
did them.”

“I
wasn’t going to stop,” he said truthfully. You feel your jaw twitch at the
honesty and the frown that’s pulling at your lips is almost painful. “Selina
has always been important to me I suppose, and it felt natural.”

It
was almost as if you could hear your heart breaking and you couldn’t stop the
sob that ran its way through your throat. You slapped a hand over your mouth in
shame and turned away from him as the tears freely flowed down your face.
Almost instinctively at your crying from, Bruce was at your side with a large
hand on your back trying to comfort you.

“Don’t.
Touch. Me!” You snap slapping his hands away. “Why did you marry me? If
you felt that way you should have been with her!”

“I
love you,” he says desperately.

“No
you don’t,” you say pushing him away from you. “If you did you wouldn’t have
done this.”

“Thats-”
he starts but he stops himself.

“Were
you going to say ‘That’s not true’?” You ask incredulously with wide eyes. “So
you were planning on cheating on me anyway.”

“No,”
he shakes his head.

“God,
I’ve wasted all of this time on you,” you say moving around him looking for a
pair of shoes to slip on and your keys. “All of the things that I could have
done, places I could have gone, and people who would have loved me, I
gave it up for you. I put my career on hold so I could help you. So that
Wayne Enterprises would have someone there while you rested. So that our
son could have something other than mask to raise him. But you couldn’t do one
thing for me? You couldn’t say no one time for me?”

He
doesn’t respond, he knows he shouldn’t respond, nothing he can say will make
this situation better.

Once
you’ve collected your shoes, bag, and care keys, you let out a sigh,”I had
really hoped that once you came home that there would be some way that you
could deny this and I would have believed you. That I’d been slipped some sort
of drug and had been hallucinating the things that I saw, but I was too
hopeful.” You wipe at your eyes. “The worse part about it is that you’ve
trapped me, Bruce. What can I do? My life has become our kids, your company,
and your mission. That has been my job since we’ve gotten married. I lived for
us Bruce, why couldn’t you?”

“I
didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he pleads. “She was just-”

“This
isn’t about her, Bruce.” You shake your head and make your way to the bedroom
door. “I’m going to stay at the penthouse. Don’t come by. Tell Damian that I’ll
come get him for lunch on Saturday like I always do.”

“Are
you coming back?”

You
look at his sad blue orbs and shake your head, “I don’t know.”

***

Damian
was the first to arrive home. Bruce watched from the bedroom window as he and
Alfred made their way into the house. What was he supposed to tell him? Not
just Damian, but everyone. That he’d driven their mother away and he didn’t
know when she’d be back? That he’d ruined their family? No, never that. How
could he break his children even more than they already had been.

With
a frown, Bruce locked the door to the bedroom and sat in silence and darkness.
If he’d gone to the cave he would have opened himself up to questions. In here,
for the moment, he was safe. No one would bother him here.

***

“Hey
Alfred, where is mom?” Dick asked, taking a drink of his water.

“Yes,
I would like to know as well, Pennyworth. It’s not often that you come and pick
me up from school,” Damian started pushing around some of his food with his
fork.

“Mom
didn’t get you from school?” Tim questioned with a furrowed brow. “That’s her
thing though.”

“Hence
the question,” Damian replied with smirk causing Tim to roll his eyes.

“Maybe
she got tired of you being a smartass and didn’t feel like being bothered,”
Jason adds in with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of his own as he rocks back on
the legs of his chair.

“Unlikely,
considering I’m her favorite,” the youngest said crossing his arms over his
chest. “Besides, I haven’t seen her at all, not since this morning.”

“What?”
The three older boys questioned alarmed.

“Alfred?”
Dick questions again to the older man who hasn’t raised his head from his plate
since the questioning started. “Where is mom?”

“I’m
afraid, Master Grayson, that it would be best if you went to ask Master Wayne,”
the butler deflects.

“Has
something happened to, mom?” Tim asks seriously.

“I
cannot answer that,” Alfred replies again.

In
frustration Jason pushes away from the dining room table to make his way up to
the master bedroom, the other boys following quickly behind him.

It
only takes a minute for Jason to stomp his way to the bedroom and even less for
him to begin banging on the door.

“Open
the door up, old man” He starts impatiently. “We just want to know where mom
is.”

There
is a pause as the boys listen for movement, and when there isn’t any Jason
pounds on the door again, “I’ll break the door open!”

“Jason!”
Dick scolds. “Mom will be mad if you break her door.”

“Well
how else am I supposed to get him to open it?”

“We
could use our brains?” Tim suggests.

“No
need,” Damian says pulling out his blade and shoving it in the jam of the door.
He uses his weight as pressure and pops open the door.

“That
still counts as messing up the door,” Dick says pointing at the ruined lock.

“It’s
still intact isn’t it?”

“Whatever.”

Tim
pushes open the door giving way to the light from the hallway to flood into the
dark room. Tim quickly finds the light switch and the room lights up.

“Father?”
Damian questions when the lights flicker on and he sees the man sitting on the
edge of his bed with his head in hands.

The
man doesn’t respond to his name being called and this sends the boys into a
slight panic. Dick quickly walks over and places a large hand on Bruce’s
shoulder and tries to shake him out of his trance.

The
man looks at the boys and sadness flashes in his eyes as he realizes he has to
explain how he’s taken their mother from them.

“Where
is mom?” Tim asks.

Damian
watches from a distance and takes in the state of the room. On the occasions
that he’d have nightmares, he usually finds himself in his parents bed snuggled
against his mother in the expansive bed as she protected him from the dreams.
He probably knew better than anyone what their bedroom was supposed to look
like.He noted that the dresser was suspiciously bare of his mother’s jewelry
boxes and perfume bottles. He casts a quick glance at Jason who seems to
realize that something is off about the room.

Damian
walks around the bed to his mother’s closet and opens it only find it empty.
Jason stands behind his youngest brother staring at the empty room perplexed.

“This
is her’s,” Damian mutters, “Where is her stuff?”

When
it clicks for Jason he’s consumed with rage and he’s stomping over to Bruce
again and pushing his startled brothers away. His large hand is around Bruce’s
collar in an instant and he’s pulling the man up.

“What
did you do? Why did she leave?” Jason questions acidly, his own blue eyes
clashing violently with Bruce’s.

“Leave?”
Dick questions. “How do you know she left?”

“Majority
of Ummi’s things are gone. Like they were packed up.”

“She
left us?” Tim questions swallowing thickly.

“I’m
pretty sure she left him!” Jason hisses shaking the man who is still
staring blankly at him. “What did you do?”

“What
could you have done to make her leave like this?” Tim asks.

Dick
examines his adoptive father keenly as he runs the scenarios through his mind.
His mother adored Bruce, so why would she just leave?

Seemingly
having enough of being pushed around Bruce quickly wraps his hand around
Jason’s wrists and squeezed before ripping the hand off of his collar. The
stretched fabric falls limply around his neck as he looks at the four of his
sons angrily.

“You
all need to leave,” He says sternly. “Your mother is safe.”

Dick’s
gaze falls onto where the collar hangs limply at Bruce’s neck and he spots a
purple bruise on his neck that causes a thought to run through his mind and it
makes his hair stand on end.

“You
wouldn’t,” Dick says with a shake of his head and a disbelieving smile. “You
couldn’t, not to Mom, right?”

“What
are talking about, Grayson?” Damian asks looking in between the two men.

Bruce
meets Dick’s gaze and the younger man feels himself getting hot with anger the
longer he holds his gaze.

Tim
examines his father and finds the same bruise on Bruce’s neck and he puts it
together. Instead of letting his anger consume him he glances back at his
younger brother and grabs his arm.

“Let
go of me, Drake,” Damian struggles as Tim pulls him along.

“Alfred
knows where she went doesn’t he?” Tim asks glancing at the guilty man. A quick
nod is all he needs as he proceeds down stairs with the young boy.

“Who
was it with? Viki? Talia? Who?” Dick questions angrily.

Jason
snorts in anger as he realizes what his brother is implying.

“Selina,”
Bruce responds after a long pause.

Dick
shakes his head in anger, “I knew you could be an asshole but not like this.”

Dick
locks eyes with his brother, “We should find out where mom is and go see her in
the morning. I’m sure she wants to be alone now.”

Jason
nods and watches as his Dick leaves the room. He stares down the older man for
a second before stomping out.

***

It
seemed like it was always raining in Gotham, despite whatever the season was.
At the moment that suited you just fine. The wide open space of the penthouse
was smaller than what you were used to but still felt empty. You were happy
that Bruce hadn’t tried to come and see you, you don’t think you could have
been as civil as you were if he had come to see you.

So
when there was a knock on the door, you felt dread fill your stomach. You
quickly padded over to the door and looked out of the peephole and saw the
distorted visage of four familiar figures.

“Boys!”
You say with wide eyes as you swing open the door.

“Ummi!”
The youngest voice calls out as he leaps at you burying his face in your
stomach as his small but strong arms wrap themselves around your waist.

“Damian,”
you say with a smile, running a comforting hand along his back.

“We
were worried,” Dick says with a smile and a shrug as he pulls a bouquet of
flowers from behind his back.

“You’re
all so sweet,” you say with a smile moving to the side and letting the boys
into the home.

“We
didn’t want you to be alone,” Tim says, “We also wanted to make sure your
weren’t in danger.”

“Oh,”
you say sadly and closed the door behind them. Damian let’s go your waist and
instead opts to hold your hand. “I shouldn’t have left in such a hurry, I know
it can be unsafe.”

A thought:

Accepting other women’s choices to embrace to reject traditional gender roles and norms is only the first step. If you care about feminism as a whole, you need to be willing to explore and examine your own opinions and preferences critically as well.

Like, on the question of “should women shave their legs,” if your gut reaction is “I’m fine with other women not shaving, but i want to shave because not shaving grosses me out” that probably warrants some deeper introspection.

It’s worth it to explore WHY you want to shave, or wear make up, etc. Its valuable to know the source of those preferences and opinions and to look at them critically. And that can be uncomfortable, but thats what makes it important.

You and Yoongi have been together for almost two years. You have never been the jealous type, but sometimes you got insecure about you relationship. You never told him tho, cause you trusted that he loved you.In that period he was working on a song with Suran and he spent all his time with her at the studio. You always thought that she was hella beautiful and talented, and the fact that she was always with you boyfriend didn’t really made you happy. You could only see him late at night, if you were still awake, and most of the times he was too busy to even answer his phone.For the first weeks you kept quiet and didn’t say anything every time he got home late, just saying he had been busy before falling asleep next to you. After sometime, you started worrying. You didn’t want to seem clingy or annoying, but you started texting him more often, hoping he would understand that you were missing him and that you wanted him to be with you and not with her.One day, he came home at a decent hour and you had the luck to see him, or so you though. You went to greet him and hug him, but he didn’t hug you back.《How was work?》you asked《Like always》he simply answered《What did you do with Suran?》《Jesus Christ! Every time I come home you ask me what I did with Suran! We worked. Not that you would understand the meaning of that, you do nothing all day》he snapped《I didn’t mean it like that》you whispered《Of course you did! Do you think I didn’t see how fucking clingy you have been recently?》《I’m not clingy, I only miss you》you shouted back《Just admit that you are jealous and stop bothering me》《I’m not jealous》you saidHe rolled his eyes and turned back, to go the bedroom. You couldn’t hold it back anymore, so you decided to take it all out.《I’m just fucking scared that you’ll leave me for her! A relationship with her would be easier, you wouldn’t have to hide her from everyone all the time. And she is beautiful, talented, and famous like you. I am nothing, just a normal girl that you met at a caffe, and that clung to you right after. Sometimes I really wonder why are you with me. We barely see each other and we have to hide from the world every time we want to do something. You should be with someone like you, not waste your time with me》You were a crying mess, and your boyfriend was looking at you with a blank look on his face.《You know what? You’re right》he said, and your heart dropped to your feet 《I should be with someone that’s worth it, and not waste my time with you》He went to the bedroom that you two shared, and left you alone in the living room, frozen in you place, with tears running down your face. You forced yourself to react, you took you phone, put on you jacked, and run out of you house.

Next day Peter was going crazy. He had in fact made out with the girl of his dreams, and she had kissed him first! He arrived to school with the biggest puppy smile in his face, which was not dismissed by Ned, who immediately dragged him to an empty hallway.

“Please tell me you talked to her”

“Even better”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she- umm- well, we might have kissed”

“Badass”

As they headed towards Chemistry class Peter kept replaying last night’s events in his head. Would it be too soon to go back to yours today? He wanted to talk to Y/n more, and the kisses were always a bonus. He looked for her in the crow, when he finally spotted Y/n he gave her his brightest smile, the one he had been saving just for her.

However Y/n looked, confused? When she saw him she looked kind of surprised and pleased as she waved her hand at him. He lifted his own hand ready to wave back, wondering why would she look surprised? They had made ou- Crap, crap crap crap!

Peter stopped his hand from weaving and quickly look somewhere else as he realized. Of course she would look surprised! She doesn’t know who was behind the mask! Peter kept his gaze in the floor as he made his way to the classroom. With her sitting in the front at least he wouldn’t be discover staring at Y/n.

The class went by rapidly, with Peter paying none to little attention, at least until the final minutes when the teacher made an announcement.

“Class as you know we will be making the final project on pairs, which I will assign, so stop looking at Mr. Parker, Mr Leeds. It’s due by the end of the week so you better start working now.”

Peter zoned out until he heard his name being called once again by the teacher.

“Mr Parker will be working with Ms. Stark”

The teacher continued calling the pairs, however Peter couldn’t seem to focus anymore. He was working with Y/n? He could barely look at you without blushing, how was he going to talk to you?

Being so distracted he didn’t notice people leaving the classroom, apparently class was over. He saw Ned leaving the classroom as well, giving the boy a thumbs up as he noticed that Y/n was not gone, she was approaching Peter, with one of her classic smiles.

“Hey Peter”

“Hey- I umh- hey”

Peter control yourself! This is your chance to talk to her, at least without the suit.

“Well, I was thinking that maybe we should work on the project at my place, you know my dad will be happy to see you”

What? How does she know Mr. Stark and him now each other? Does she also know he is spiderman?

“You know since you have the Stark Internship and all”

Right. The Stark Internship. He almost forgot about that too.

“Sooo, my place at 7? You should stay for dinner as well.”

The boy could only manage a nod before the girl turned around and exited the room, leaving him alone. Great, he thought, I really am nothing without my suit, I can’t even talk to her!

Tonight will be a long night.

—

Peter had been a nervous wreck during the whole day, so when school was over he went to the first alley he could find and changed into his spiderman suit. He had some hours to kill before going to the Avenger’s tower.

Time flied as he stopped robberies and helped a girl get her cat back from a tree. When he finally checked his phone it was 7:10 already! He went back to the alley and changed into his usual clothes, shoving the suit into his backpack and hurrying towards her home.

Mr. Stark was waiting for him as the elevator doors opened. He welcomed him with a smile as he took his shoulder with his hand and guided him towards the kitchen.

“Welcome kid! You know where everything is, so make yourself at home.”

“Thank you Mr. Stark”

“Just remember that my daughter is off limits for everybody, and that includes you”

This time his tone had been more serious and he was staring right at Peter’s eyes, like he could tell what had happened yesterday. Peter felt terrible, Mr. Stark had helped him so much and gave him his suit! He didn’t want to lie to the man!

However this thoughts were quickly erased as he saw Y/n entering the room. She was wearing a beautiful sundress that made her legs look longer. Mr. Stark cleared his throat next to Peter, probably to stop him from checking out his daughter.

“Remember the rules Peter! And Y/n, don’t you think that dress is too short”

“Dad stop it! We are just workin on a chemistry project! We’ll be in my room okay”

“Listen to me young lady, that door stays wide open!Dinner will be ready at 8!”

Y/n rolled her eyes as she took his arm and leaded the way towards her room, answering with a “Whatever dad” before closing the door.

“I’m sorry about that, he is just really protective”

“Yeah sure- don’t worry”

The both stood in the entrance of the room until she moved towards her couch, the same he had been on yesterday. He blushed at the memory and tried to think of something else before his pants go too tight. He followed her, sitting next to her as they talked about their project.

“So I was thinking we should do something related to DNA maybe? Like how it can change and stuff. I don’t really know it was just and idea-”

“No yeah, I like it, we should do that”.

The girl got up and brought her laptop to the couch so they could gather information together. Peter found it had to focus on the project when he could catch a glance at the hickeys on her neck, but he managed. About 20 minutes later they had gather enough information to at least get started on the actual presentation.

“Peter you’ve got a pencil I can borrow?”

“Yeah, just let me get my backpack”

“Where is it?”

“I leaved it by the door”

“I’ll go get it”

With those final words she stood up and headed towards the door looking for said pencil. Peter stayed alone for a while, waiting for her to come back. She was taking a while, maybe she couldn’t find it? As he was standing up to find the girl he saw her come back empty handed, but with a wide smile.

Her hair was now in a ponytail, and he could clearly see the hickeys from last night. Also, had her dress gotten shorter? It was barely covering her legs anymore, and he had to remind himself to look somewhere else before she noticed his drooling.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I was thinking we should get a break, you know, talk and stuff. Get to know each other”

Why did everything reminded him of last night? He got a big dejavu as the girl seated next to him but this time it was only to take his hand and lead him to her bed, seating down on it, with her back on the header as he took the place next to her, facing each other.

“Mmmh- so, what would you like to know?”

“Tell me about your Stark Internship Peter, it’s kinda funny how we’ve never runned into each other in the tower, since you spend so much time here.”

“Well I just- I stay mainly at the labs you know? And help your dad with stuff”

“So you spend a lot of time with my dad?”

“Kinda”

Peter was growing more and more nervous. The girl hadn’t stopped looking at him while biting her lip. Was she doing it on purpose? Did she know about his crush? He wanted to be the one biting those pink lips. Her hand traveled from her leg to her neck, stroking it while making small moans, claiming she was hurt. The noises distracted Peter as he tried his best not to get a hard on. Why was she doing this? Did she enjoyed to get guys in her room and seduce them?

“You must know the Avengers then”

“I’ve met them a couple times”

“Even Spiderman?”

Where was she going with these? Did she wanted to see Spider Man again? Maybe that was why she was asking about him, trying to seem nice to Peter so he would give him some info.

“I’ve talk to him a couple times”

“Well, I’ve been wanting to give him a secret message, could you do that for me?”

The girl had gotten closer than before, taking Peter’s arm and stroking it, going up and down, while her other hand was on his shoulder, holding them close. She leaned into his ear as she whispered.

“You should tell him to hide better his suit”

She pushed back a little, just enough to catch Peter’s lip into a kiss. What even? Oh shit, she must have found the suit on my backpack! Well, he couldn’t really argue as she kept kissing him. How come she always surprised him? The boy refused to get left behind as he finally bit into the girl’s lip, making her open her mouth for his tongue to get in.

The girl got up and she straddled his hips, making them both whine at the contact. He got his mouth to hers once again while he took her legs into his hands. This time he could touch a little bit further. He slid his hand up and down, placing them in the back of her tights as he brought her closer to him.

He finally let go of the girls mouth as he headed towards her neck, sucking and biting at the same spot, leaving it even redder than before. He could hear her soft moaning right next to his ear as he slid a bit of her dress to kiss her collarbone. Meanwhile the girl had began unbuttoning his shirt, stroking his stomach as well, getting way to close at the band of his boxers. He could feel his pants getting a little too tight.

Did she feel the same? He wanted to touch as well, but he didn’t want to scare her off. He got his hands off from her thighs going for her waist instead, however the girl had other plans. She seemed to notice his thoughts as she took his hand and placed it under her dress once again.

“Don’t think too much Peter”

She went back to kissing him as the boy gather enough courage to move his hand upwards. He brushed his fingers slightly at the fabric of her underwear, making the girl throw back her head as she let out a series of whimpers, this time louder than before.

“Peter do it again”

With some new gained confidence the boy move his fingers once again against the fabric where he guessed was her clit, stroking it, making the girl even wetter than before.

Y/n started moving her hips along with his fingers, trying to get more friction, until she finally got his hand off her and she seated in his lap. The contact of his dick and her clit made them both let out groans a as they moved their hips in unison.

“Peter”

She continued to moan his name in his ear. If she kept on doing that he would be in a very sticky situation very soon. Peter tried to get back on her neck and maybe slide the other strap off her shoulder when a voice interrupted him.

“Peter better have some clothes on before I get in!”

Fuck, Mr Stark! He had completely forgotten about him. Both teenagers stared wide eyes at each other as her father entered the room, without giving them time to fix themselves.

She quickly got off him as he buttoned up his shirt and adjusted his pants. The last thing he wanted was for Mr. Stark to see he got the hots for his daughter. She tried to fix their hair but was stopped as her father stormed into the room.

“Are you serious kid? I welcomed you into my house, into my team! and this is how you thank me?”

Peter looked down at this words. He couldn’t believe he had gotten Mr. Stark down. He probably hated him

“Dad stop it! It was my fault!”

“How could it be your fault?”

“I kissed Peter okay? I just really like him” ay/n shrugged her shoulders and looked at Peter as she said this words. It was true, she really did like him and his dorky side.

“I’m really sorr-”

“I gave you one single rule, stay away from her, and you go and do the exact opposite!” Y/n’s father closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll have a long talk in a moment, if you are gonna be dating my daughter we must settle some rules first, but now let’s get down for dinner, We’ll talk later kiddo.”

Mr. Stark finally left the room. Y/n looked at Peter as she said.

“Sooo, we dating now?”

“I’d love to”

The girl smiled at Peter before taking his hand, leading the way towards the kitchen.

“Did you really break my father’s rules?”

As he stared at her he realised she looked perfect with her messy hair, swollen lips and her hand interlocked with his.